


Like Two Ships, Crashing In The Night

by stellacadente



Series: Fictober 2018 [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Excessive Drinking, F/M, Just get a room already, Lots of flustered Quinn, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 12:04:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16555424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellacadente/pseuds/stellacadente
Summary: Fictober 2018 on Tumblr meant 31 new stories. They fell into a couple of related subjects, so I’m grouping them together and posting them as their own series.I’ve reordered them to be as close to chronological order as possible, not in the order they appeared during the month.There’s also one jacked up AU of an AU and that will be a work all on its own.The first group are stories that involve my Sith Warrior Xhareen and/or Malavai Quinn before they begin their physical relationship. There’s more than a little “geez get a room” going on here. These stories could have been part of the What Came Before series, but they wouldn't have existed without Fictober.





	1. Go Forward, Do Not Stray

**Author's Note:**

> [Xhareen’s family history and *issues* are discussed [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8323672). The handsome soldier with the cheekbones is You Know Who, and that story is [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15962234). Xhareen is about 14 when this is happening. This is the last time she saw her family until after the events of KOTET. Just months after this, she is thrown into slavery in the Hutt fighting pits.]

Xhareen didn’t realize Master Gamheen was even in the clearing until she was spinning wildly in the air.

She didn’t realize her teacher – a Sith lord, wife to Darth Neveris and a Miraluka like her – even knew about this place. This was supposed to be Xhareen’s own private place. Her volcano room as it were. Where she went to blow off steam or chop wood with her hands when she couldn’t control her anger anymore.

She hadn’t been here in months. She thought she was doing well in her training. But then her parents came for their annual visit two days ago. For the first time in six years, they brought her sister, Naveen. Navi probably spoke five or six words to her directly; the rest of the time she bugged them about when they would be leaving to go into the city to see the opera. She was applying to be accepted into the opera’s music academy and as part of her tour of the school, tickets to a free performance for the family were included. Xhareen was not allowed to leave the compound with them, however, a condition of her training.

Between Navi ignoring her and being left out of the opera trip, Xhareen snapped. She ran off the second her family disappeared into the shuttle that would take them back to the city.

That was last night. She had been here ever since. The food she had stolen from the kitchen and stuffed into her pockets was now gone and her water canteen was empty.

“If you vow to stand still, I will let you down,” Gamheen said.

“I vow to do as you ask, Master,” Xhareen replied.

Gamheen let her down gently. “You know, Xhareen, I have known about this place for a long time. I knew about all the times you ran off to hunt in the woods, not just the one time you got lost and that handsome soldier with the cheekbones brought you back, kicking and screaming.

“I let you be because I knew you needed your space. …”

Xhareen’s stomach growled loudly enough to interrupt the woman. “What is my punishment, Master? Can you just do it and get it over with?”

Gamheen waved her hands, and a golden thread about 10 meters long appeared about two meters above the forest floor.

“When you can walk across this line without your visor on and without falling, you may return to the compound. You will find something waiting there for you.”

Xhareen hoped that meant a hot lunch. She removed her visor and sat it down on her jacket. Then she jumped up onto the line and immediately fell back to the ground.

Gamheen gestured for her to try again.

Xhareen dusted her backside off and tried a second time. This time, she was able to hold her balance and stand still, but she fell off as soon as she tried to take a step.

“Why can’t I do this, Master?” Xhareen asked with a catch of desperation in her voice.

“Child, you have tried exactly twice. And you have failed twice because you still have not learned to control your anger.”

Hunger must be some form of wisdom, Xhareen thought, because she was able to not snap back that it was precisely her anger that elevated her to the best fighter in Darth Neveris’s little cohort of alien Sith trainees. Because this wasn’t fighting. This was punishment. This was awful. She was starving.

Control, she told herself. Stay on that line. She took a deep breath and jumped up again. This time, she balanced herself quickly, but stopped and took another deep breath before taking a step.

She stayed on the line. One step, two, three …

Ha ha, Navi, you might be able to sing but can you do this?

And she was on the ground again.

Gamheen came over and helped her up. “Stop thinking about your sister,” she warned. “You’ll never learn anything new or be your best self if you compare yourself to others.”

“But I thought competition was good, Master.”

“Competition is not comparison. Is your sister here, walking on another thread of Force energy? You’re inventing a competition where none exists, and that is your downfall.”

Xhareen brushed off her clothing and started to pace. “What do I need to do then?” At this point, Xhareen was ready to take whatever advice she could. She hated to fail.

“Go forward. Do not stray. Do not let your thoughts stray. This advice will take you across many tightropes in life, my dear.”

Even with all her anger and the rage that prickled her skin when she thought about the things that hurt her, Xhareen could see her teacher was right. She nodded and got herself back up on the rope.

Xhareen put her head forward and looked solely at the tree where the rope’s reach ended. One foot after the other, step after step, arms out, thinking only about the straight line that took her to her goal.

When she got to the tree, the rope suddenly disappeared. She used the Force to hurl her body to a tree branch, then she let herself down to the ground.

“Come, child,” Gamheen said. “You have completed this task but I guarantee it will be harder the next time. However, we can wait a day or two for that lesson. Let’s get you back and get you fed.”

When they got back to the compound, Gamheen took her to the private dining area where she and her husband and the older acolytes ate. There was a single, large bowl of stew and next to it, a flimsi envelope.

Gamheen left her in peace. Xhareen took three spoons of stew before succumbing to her curiosity and opening the envelope.

Inside, two tickets to the opera for next week and a note. “Nico will escort you to a performance of The Broken Chalice. Neveris and I think you will enjoy it. – G.”


	2. Can You Feel This?

**On Balmorra**

A medic and the Twi’lek helped Baras’s apprentice off the speeder and into the medbay.

“Must remember to call her Miss Vette,” Quinn thought, still remembering the tongue lashing he got* from Lord Xhareen for not using her assistant’s given name last week. He sensed there was more to this relationship between them, though he didn’t think it romantic. Not that he needed to be thinking about a Sith lord, no matter how attractive, and their sexual or romantic encounters and …

Blast! She could distract him without even trying. He picked up the datapad he just dropped and followed the group into the medbay. Vette helped her onto the table, glowered at Quinn and went to sit in his office.

Quinn began the examination as Lord Xhareen sat on the table, cursing silently. Her injury didn’t look that serious, but she was still unable to put any weight on her right foot.

A medtech cut the boot off. Quinn ordered them to find the sector physician and put her on standby.

The problem was obvious immediately: There was a metal fragment embedded in her foot. It had somehow gone right through the sole of her boot and couldn’t be seen until the boot was removed.

Quinn donned a pair of aseptic gloves and began to examine her foot. He expected her to cry out, as the wound was quite ragged and the piece of metal had nearly pierced all the way through the top of her foot.

“Can you feel this?” he asked as he probed nearer to the wound.

“It’s hard to say. I know you’re doing something and my Force sense says you’re touching the area but …”

He motioned, and the medtech brought over a small scanner. Quinn saw the problem right away.

“Tell me, my lord, how did this injury happen?”

She grimaced, though he could not tell if it was from pain or embarrassment. He nodded again to the medtech, who pulled out their holo and ordered the physician to come immediately. The foot would require minor surgery.

“We were out bormu hunting and I landed a bit short of my target on a leap. There was an explosion and Vette was trying to drag me to a rock outcropping.”

He realized now what must have happened. The rebels often used an anesthetic on the metal fragments they packed into mines. A few Imperial troops had fallen to them, although they were most often placed in bormu hunting grounds, to keep the lumbering animals immobile until a hunting team could come and dispatch their quarry.The amount of chemical in a piece this small would have knocked a normal human unconscious.

“That is surprising, my lord. I have yet to see you miss a Force leap.”

“Maybe I was thinking about you and got distracted.”

This woman. She had a gift for disconcerting him. He assumed it was some Sith game, to toy with one’s underlings.

“Well, I … apologize if I have done anything to displease you, my lord.”

“First off, it’s called ‘flirting,’ Quinn. You should look it up. Second, the only thing about you that displeases me is that you call me ‘my lord’ so much. I’m not even a real lord yet.”

He cleared his throat. He knew why he referred to her title so often; it was the way he was raised, to respect the Sith. It was demanded of Imperial military soldiers, at least in public. “Still, you are Sith and that is how you are to be addressed.”

She began to laugh. “I can’t tell if that’s a statement or an order.”

No matter how hard he might have tried not to, Quinn felt the heat rise in his cheeks. “I would never presume to order you around,” he said, though he refrained from using her title even though it felt disrespectful and his flaming red left cheek began to twitch.

Lord Xhareen opened her mouth to speak, but then stopped. He wasn’t sure how she might have turned what he’d just said into another flirt; he’d have to think about it later.

“The surgeon will be here shortly. She will decide how next to proceed. In the meantime, is there anything I can do for you to make you more comfortable?”

She began to laugh uncontrollably, then waved her hand. “No, Quinn. Please go so that I don’t torment you any more than I already have.”

He bowed. “It is not torment at all, Lord Xhareen.”

She smiled, and as he was leaving the room he swore he heard her whisper, “… at least that’s some progress.”


	3. People Like You Have No Imagination

**On board the Fury-class interceptor, The Covenant. Shortly after Quinn arrives on board.**

Once again, Captain Rulebook pointed out the three-key sequence to Vette.

She scowled. It was the dumbest security lockcode she’d ever seen. At least, today. “What am I, just a trained monkey lizard to you?”

“Not in the slightest, Miss Vette. I was merely attempting to familiarize you with Imperial computer security protocols.”

“Listen, Captain Tightpants, half those protocols were invented to keep ME out of your boring Imperial computers.”

Quinn raised his left eyebrow right on cue. Maybe she’d wring some fun out of this interchange for once.

“If they were so boring, why were you attempting to slice them?”

Uh oh, she thought. Vette was beginning to learn that for all his devotion to regulations and obnoxious punctiliousness, Quinn had a bone-dry sense of humor. Of course, it was also a quirk she could exploit, too.

“You’re not buying that I am the biggest single threat to Imperial electronic security?”

His face didn’t change. “I’m convinced you are a threat, hence my attempt to familiarize you with …”

“I know Xhareen told you to be nice to me.” Ah ha! That caught him off guard. Up came the hand to the face! She’d take whatever small moral victories she could.

“Ah, no, Lord Xhareen pointed out that I should respect you, and she is completely correct. You are a member of this crew and your talents are welcome and necessary. It is just that … ”

“So I’m not just ‘the Twi’lek’ with ‘that Twi’lek mouth’?”

Quinn sat down on the seat next to hers. “I apologize for that, Miss Vette. My upbringing was lacking in tolerance and apparently also common sense. I was wrong not to see you for the person you are.”

That was a shocker. Still, she couldn’t let him off the hook.

“It’s understandable. People like you have no imagination. You fail to see the rest of the galaxy and all that we have accomplished. We’re not all the enemy. I might hate your Imperial system of slavery, but I’m no fan of the Republic for letting it happen. I mean, at least I know you guys hate us in the open, while the Republic smiles out of one side of its head and sells us to the Hutts out of the other.”

“I don’t hate you. You’re resourceful, if willful. And you protect Lord Xhareen. I promise to be a better person from here on out. But you do need to adhere to the most basic protocols. I’m sure you can find a workaround between now and the time it takes me to leave the bridge.” He stood up and walked toward the doorway.

“You bet those tight pants I can,” she said, making sure he heard.

If she was being honest, Vette had to call this round a draw. Which meant she won.


	4. Will That Be All

**En route to Tatooine**

Quinn stared at the datapad. He had to admit Xhareen was more than capable of filling out a report. He’d been rough on her, and she had finally come around and stepped up.

He hadn’t intended on being such a jerk about it, though. That was just his gift. He was trying to fix that.

She hadn’t been exactly cruel in return, but she had been distant recently. Quinn consoled himself that she was learning what it meant to be a leader. He was as convinced now as he had been that first day he met her that she was headed for greater things. Things so great, he wouldn’t be by her side anymore. He could scarcely believe he was still here now.

So he had to pass along all the lessons he’d learned the hard way. And all the arcane knowledge he held about keeping the Empire functional. Such as filling out fuel consumption reports even when one is tired. One day, she would need to draw on these things to be the commander he knew she could be.

She appeared in the conference room a minute later, right at the agreed-upon time. 

“Such a look on that face of yours,” she said in lieu of a greeting. “Is my report that bad?”

“No, my lord. I was mulling over … another matter. Your comments on the report are helpful and the end result is exemplary. Unless you have something to add, I can file it immediately.”

“Normally, I’d ask if that were a trick question, Captain, but since I did everything you told me to, and reviewed it twice, then no. I have nothing to add.”

“Very good, my lord.” He looked up at her face, just briefly. She was pleased with herself and, he had to admit, she deserved it. Without really meaning to, he smiled.

She drew in a breath as if she had wanted to say something, but then stopped. She hesitated for a moment before saying, “Yes, it’s very good. And you know I appreciate all of your assistance with the ship.”

Everything about her – the way she swung her arms when she said that, the upturning of her face … she clearly had more to say, though Quinn suspected it was of a personal nature and he realized that, if he had tried to have a casual conversation right now, his tongue would be hopelessly tied.

He wanted so much to speak with her about whatever interested her, to share the things that interested him. She’d honored her vow not to flirt or suggest they’d make good physical partners and ever since, he realized they were becoming colleagues and maybe even friends, not just an officer and his superior. He would need to rein it in if things got complicated, but it felt good to make a connection with someone.

Instead of attempting to converse, he took one last good look at her face, at its lines and curves, at how the flatness of her high cheekbones made her look more like a sculpture than a living, breathing, powerful young woman. He vowed to remember this face when she was famous and he was just another forgotten military officer in some gray office somewhere under Imperial control.

“Wi … will that be all?” he asked.

“Yes it … sure,” she replied. “I don’t want to keep you from your duties. Good night, Quinn.”

“Good night, my lord,” he said. She was out of the room just as he finished speaking.

He forwarded the report to central command, then shut down the ship’s main data pad. He grabbed his personal data pad – a little older and larger than the rest and clearly much used –  and decided to call it a night.

Perhaps an hour or two spent perusing the Imperial Census would calm his mind and help him sleep.


	5. You Think That Bothers Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [This scene was supposed to be a chapter in [The Spaces In Between](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4757990) but didn’t make the cut. This should have been the start of the “porridge saga” about a small but important symbol of Xhareen & Quinn’s affection for each other, especially after the Quinncident. Think of the porridge to be like plain congee. ]

**On board the Covenant, over Nar Shaddaa**

 "My lord, if you have a minute … “

Quinn had an absolute gift for telegraphing his dismay through the most innocuous phrases. And he had no fewer than a dozen meanings behind every utterance of "My lord …”

After the battles of the past two days, Xhareen still felt exhausted. She was hoping she could sneak from her cabin to the galley to get a meal and a hot caff, but that obviously was not to be. Quinn had to know she hadn’t eaten yet, since he monitored her caloric intake, except for the stuff she and Vette managed to sneak eat when he wasn’t around.

But, knowing she was busted, she decided to muddle through. “Yes, Captain?”

“I still require that you read and approve these reports.”

“Can’t you do it?”

“No, my lord. I wrote them. They require another senior level approval before being forwarded to Imperial High Command.”

“Quinn, I trust you. Just add my mark and send them.”

He sighed, then rubbed his brows. “Permission to speak …”

“Yes, Quinn! You may speak freely.” If she only had a minute back for every time she had to tell him it was OK to be less than formal, she’d have time to get everything done he wanted her to get done.

“Thank you, my lord. Yes. This is the fifth time I have asked you to review these reports and in another four hours, they will be overdue. I cannot just add your mark and forward them. That is an actionable offense. It’s fraud, it’s dangerous and frankly, you need to assume more responsibility for your ship. ”

That stung. She viewed the ship as a conveyance, a means of getting from job to job, a way to do whatever Baras wanted done next. Quinn had, from his first day on board, clearly adopted the ship as his mission and calling and he couldn’t do anything except run it like he was running an entire battle-ready fleet. She couldn’t deny he had a gift for management, for extracting more efficient ways of doing things with the tools at hand. She’d put him in charge and thought that would be that. It wasn’t.

He’d barely been on board two weeks when he overhauled the engines. They spent hours going over specs and requisition forms – not that she minded spending time with him. And Xhareen had been genuinely touched to learn he’d paid for the experimental equipment from his own hoarded officer’s salary – which he also failed to mention, so she’d never let on that she knew. But his incessant drilling, the near-fetish of report generation, all of it requiring her first-hand oversight … was this really what being a Sith lord was about?

“You think this bothers me?

“As a matter of fact, I do. That’s why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve been a little busy, Quinn, in case you hadn’t noticed. I simply forgot.”

“My lord, perhaps the hallway is not the best place to have this discussion.” He was simmering, and Xhareen now felt bad. She didn’t mean to punch his buttons.

“Conference room, then.”

When they arrived, Xhareen sat at the far end. Quinn remained standing next to her, facing her.

“My lord, I know you find me stubborn and pedantic when this topic comes up. We are outside Imperial jurisdiction. There are rules that must be followed and procedures that must be documented. And there are ongoing tasks that even a ship of this size must complete to be official. I do try to take on as many of them as I can, but you are the commanding officer here and there are things you simply must buckle down and do.”

She suddenly had a mental picture of Baras filling out reports but suppressed the urge to laugh. “No wonder Baras gave up this ship. Now, give me those reports and let me sign them.”

Quinn pulled back the tablet from her reach. “Xhareen, this isn’t punishment. You are important to the functioning of this vessel. Right now, the crew is just the three of us but I am certain that will change as you acquire more power. Running things smoothly is my job, yes, but think of it this way: I do require your help from time to time.”

He knew just where to stick the knife. She fell back against the chair and slumped her shoulders. She knew she must look like an angry four-year-old, but she couldn’t help herself. “I know, Quinn,” she said, her voice starting to catch. “I’m just tired. And hungry. I don’t know how to keep the kind of balance you do. I have no idea where you get your energy or how you can go without sleep and still look at these damn datapads and not go insane.”

She put her head down on the table and tried not to sob.

“Give me a few minutes and I will return with something that should help.”

He left the datapad on the table but Xhareen did not touch it. She’d do this his way for now.

He returned in less than 10 minutes, carrying a food tray.

“Toovee said you like this type of porridge, and I have a fresh cup of caff for you. You can review the reports while you eat,” he said.

She took a spoonful of the porridge, sweet like she liked it. The caff was hot and fragrant as always. “Quinn, I’d rather crawl inside a tauntaun carcass than fight with you.”

He sat down in the chair next to her and grabbed the second cup of caff off the tray.

“We can go rather quickly from discussing to fighting, can’t we? I don’t mean for that to happen. It’s not my place to question you, I just … I want to do this properly. If I cannot run this ship well, how can I argue that I deserve to be promoted ever again?”

A sense of desperation crept into his voice. Xhareen realized she’d been so selfish, thinking her mission was all there was.

“I should be more thoughtful about your career. I know you refuse to be angry about what happened to you, being wrongfully prosecuted and exiled and … just wasted by idiot bureaucrats, but I am happy to be angry about it for you. I have been entirely selfish, not thinking about your career as I promised I would. Please, forgive me. For everything.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, my lord. I understand you are dealing with grave, usually impossible tasks, being set before you and you have performed each one of them beyond all that was asked. I’m proud of you. I just …”

“You have needs, too, Quinn, and right now, your chief need is to run this ship well and I am the main obstacle to your doing that.”

Quinn adjusted his jacket like it was coming undone, which it was not. “Your ability to read people continues to astonish me.”

“It’s how I survive. It’s how I’ve always survived.” He had accepted her apology but more importantly, she felt that she’d gotten through to him. Now was the time for her to let him know what she needed.

“There are two things I must ask: Don’t let me wait until the last minute to do the things I absolutely must do, unless my work for Baras causes that to happen.”

He nodded. “What’s the second thing?”

“If we must discuss the minutiae of running a ship, can we do it after I’ve eaten? I’m much less obnoxious then.”

He broke into the biggest smile she had seen to date on his well-chiseled face. “I will plan accordingly from now on, my lord.”


	6. This is going to be so much fun

**On Dromund Kaas**

Vette watched as Xhareen grappled with her latest enemy. The enemy was winning. So Vette had to step in with the assist.

“Tell me again why you’re going to this thing?” she asked as she buttoned up the back of the dress Xhareen finally managed to slide into.

“It’s the first time we’ve been back to Dromund Kaas since Quinn got his actual promotion to Captain Second Class. There’s a small ceremony for newly promoted officers and a reception afterward. I thought I’d make an appearance to support him.”

A loud snort came from the bed where Jaesa sat. “OK, but you’re dressed like you’re his date, you realize?”

Xhareen stopped dead. Vette suppressed a quiet laugh.

“Stars, you’re right. This won’t do!” she cried.

So Jaesa and Vette helped her get out of the dress, which she tossed on the floor. “You realize I’ve risked my life to save artifacts worth less than the price of this dress?” Vette chided.

“I hate dresses and you know it. I hate that one in particular, no matter how good it looks on me,” Xhareen said as she opened the durasteel cabinet that functioned as her wardrobe. “Sell it and buy another artifact from another thieving scumbag if you want.”

She pulled out the ensemble they all immediately agreed was the perfect choice for the night: the Sith robes marking her as Baras’s top apprentice.

For all his own sartorial failings, Baras had exceptional taste in choosing his legacy’s formal gear. A deep red robe, trimmed in black Killik silk and edged in muted copper thread, the ore used to make it mined on Korriban itself.

Not that most of his apprentices got to wear theirs very often. Xhareen knew all too well how short their shelf life was.

But this was what she wanted Quinn to see her in. This was what she wanted the other Imperials to see Quinn’s “commanding officer” in. This was, she realized, the first time she’d worn them since Baras named her a lord.

“That’s what I call dressing to impress,” Jaesa said as she helped the others get the collar and hood into place.

“Nah, I call it dressing to intimidate,” Vette said.

“I’ll take the latter, thank you,” Xhareen decided. “I’m ready. This is going to be so much fun.”


	7. You Should Have Tried Harder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TMKZ = Thirty Million Kilometer Zone. BDUs - I know they’re called ACUs now; but they were BDUs back in my day so that’s how I think of them. And I think about Quinn in BDUs quite often.

**From the databanks of Imperial TMKZ:**

If you think you saw something strange on the outer ring of Vaiken spacedock near the Sith quarter last night, you are correct. In case you are still confused, this is what you saw:

A large burly man in Imperial lieutenant BDUs carrying a woman in his arms, with a dualsaber strapped to his back.

A Talz carrying a Twi’lek, who was cradling a Kaleeshi drinking horn.

An Imperial captain, also in BDUs, with a giggling Sith half hanging onto him, her twin saber holsters empty but his pants legs pockets sporting large cylindrical objects.

We contacted station security, who informed us several hours later that the pilot for a new holocomedy was being filmed. We’ll get back to you when we hear more.

Next up: Our most popular feature … South Kaasi Shore.

~~~~~

Thankfully, the corridors near the hangar where the Covenant was docked were empty. Pierce was clearly huffing and puffing as the now unconscious Jaesa was only getting heavier. Quinn, on the other hand, had not been allowed to carry Xhareen (she begged him not to, softly, saying several times “you’ll only break my heart.” He wasn’t sure what that meant).

She had, however, stomped on his foot at least three times. Whether it was on purpose, he also could not say, but he was grateful for the durasteel reinforcements nonetheless.

They made it to the ship, where Quinn instructed Pierce and Broonmark to lay the girls down on their bunks, making sure they were half sitting up. He would tend to Xhareen first, then to them.

He led Xhareen to her bed, removing the armor she left there when she changed into casual gear for her “Girls Night Out,” as she had called it. He removed her shoes and the jacket she was wearing, but no more. He propped her up with pillows and called for Toovee to bring him his secondary medkit.

Quinn pulled up Xhareen’s sleeve and gave her a shot that would help metabolize the alcohol still in her system much faster. It also contained an anti-emetic so she could sleep it off without fear of choking.

This was a nightmare, Quinn thought. Xhareen and the girls loved to drink, but they had never gotten themselves incapacitated, much less in public. It was fortunate Pierce was nearby when he saw Xhareen and Vette trying to pick up Jaesa, who was clearly not used to the Imperial liquor she had consumed, apparently in large quantities.

Quinn had seen them earlier in the evening, as they passed between bars, and as Xhareen stumbled into him, had mentioned that she might want to watch her consumption the rest of the evening. She “pfft” him and waved him off, followed by an inordinate amount of laughter. He was berating himself now for not keeping a closer eye on her.

Quinn ordered Toovee to keep him apprised if there were any changes to Xhareen’s condition and he went and gave first Jaesa, then Vette, the same shot.

“I’ll sit with Jaesa for a few hours,” Pierce said, and Broonmark agreed to keep an eye on Vette.

“Thank you for your help tonight, Lieutenant,” Quinn said. “I will make sure Lord Xhareen knows you kept the situation from getting any worse.”

Pierce grunted something approaching “no problem” as he pulled up a chair next to Jaesa’s bunk. Broonmark was already seated on the floor next to Vette when Quinn came in to give her the injection.

Quinn prepared to go back to Xhareen’s quarters to take up his watch, too.

It was going to be an interesting night.

The next morning, Quinn sat up in the chair as soon as he heard the groaning.

“Quinn, what the fuck are you doing in my quarters?” Xhareen mumbled. At least, that’s what Quinn assumed she said.

“Trying to keep you from dying in your drunken stupor, my lord.”

She tried to sit up, failed once, then succeeded on her second attempt. The shot Quinn had given her took care of the alcohol she had yet to process, but clearly, she had already overtaxed her system.

“Gods, you’re a comedian now. I guess I deserve that.”

Quinn wasn’t sure what to say. Xhareen was a grown woman – a grown Sith woman – but when she showed her vulnerabilities like this, it triggered his sense of duty to protect her. But that meant suppressing the urge to criticize her actions.

“I was worried about you. I saw you earlier in the night and tried to warn you about over-consuming alcohol. You were fortunate that Lt. Pierce found the three of you before any more of a scene was created.”

She waved her hand. “Sorry for the comedian remark. That’s fine. It’s your job. And Quinn?”

“Yes, my lord?

“Next time, try harder. But also, thanks.”

Quinn still wished he had done more, or found them sooner. He was as worried about her reputation as he was about her health. “Yes my lord, though perhaps we should agree there shouldn’t be a next time?”

She snorted. “I’ll agree to anything if you fetch me a cup of caff while I shower and change.”

“On it, my lord. I should also look after Vette and Jaesa as well.”

She nodded. And smiled.

Quinn smiled back. “Service is its own reward,” he thought as he nearly bounced out of the room.


End file.
